We have been home from Dark Odyssey Summer Camp for two weeks now and I haven’t said much about it. I’ve been processing my thoughts but I have a list of posts that I want to write about the experience. A lot happened there. I met Wendy, a longtime blog friend that is even more awesome when you get to see her in person. I got to spend time with my dear, sweet Viviane who is one of the most comforting and lovely people I’ve met in a long time. I also got to meet many new friends and take classes and workshops with remarkable presenters and educators.

Despite the plethora of experiences that I *did* have, I am going to start with one that I didn’t. A gangbang.

It was Sunday afternoon, laying around in the pool, that I got the idea that I wanted to have a gangbang. Just by merit of timing, the idea was already ill-fated but Jay tried to organize it for me. Needless to say, most people had pretty full dance cards and getting that many cocks to convene in one place at camp was, well, not going to happen.

But, in the spirit of better luck next time, let me tell you a bit about what I have in mind.

I want to be violated by multiple people in a way that is really quite beyond my control. I first got a taste for this during our playful threesomes with Ian. He and Jay often pin me down and tickle me and molest me. It is fun and sexy and I struggle, giggle, and moan. But what if I screamed and cried and begged them to stop? It could go either way. The reality is that I have two tall, strong men pinning me down and doing what they want to me.

I got to thinking that I really love this, the feel of my muscles straining against their power. Knowing that I can’t get away, can’t stop it from occurring. The ability to let go because there is nowhere else to go. Sure, I’m a rope slut and I like bondage of all sorts but actually being restrained by another person, unable to fight them off, is a totally different thing.

Suddenly the attention is divided. I can’t just think about the hand mauling my pussy or the teeth biting my nipples but instead have to focus on the fingers wrapped around my arm, squeezing tight enough to bruise. Or perhaps the knees pressed against my thigh, forcing my legs apart so that my unwilling wetness is revealed. And they can’t just focus on what they are doing to me, their animalism has to come out and it becomes just as much about the struggle as the sex.

The idea of multiple people making this happen for me, taking turns pinning me down and keeping my subdued while their companions touch me in every way they can imagine is an overwhelming urge. They can be faceless and nameless. I could be blindfolded or not. The details, the humans involved don’t matter. I am interested in arms and hands, mouths and cocks just as they should not be interested in me in this moment, just my sex, just what my warm and wet holes can offer them.

Fantasies like this are scary to some people. The lack of consent is alarming. There are feminists that would have some choice (or perhaps condescending) words for me. But it is mine and I own it. And I look forward, perhaps too eagerly, to the day that I can make it a reality.

I’m on my back, bound. The harness holds me in firmly, my arms are bound to my thighs and Arte has a wicked grin on her face. She is playing stupid, acting like a mad scientist, telling me that she has a new contraption to test on me. As I’m writing about it now, the roleplay sounds absurd and laughable. But in the moment, I didn’t find it very funny. I was scared.

She covers my eyes with a pair of goggles and now the already dim hotel room is darker and red. She hold the contraption over me and it makes zapping and crackling noises. My whole body is shaking.

I was so excited to try this device and now I’m considering chickening out. My safe word is running through my mind, assisted by the fact that I am, literally, seeing red in this moment. I calm my breathing and try to listen to what Artemis is saying. When she asks me if I’m ready I say, “No!” but she touches it to my skin anyway.

Perhaps you just want to listen to the rest of what happened? It includes whimpering, screaming, whining, and judicious amounts of giggling. Lets just say that I am no longer terrified of the violet wand and am a bit of an electricity slut now.

Download the recording of me trying out the Violet Wand

I met Hania at the beginning of the summer. She burst into my dry and repressive summer class with so much energy and enthusiasm that it was hard not to be a bit annoyed at 8:30 in the morning. When we got assigned to do a group project together, I didn’t know what to expect.

Sometime during a procrastination break, I find myself telling her about my sexual proclivities and my phone sex work. She smiles and asks a lot of questions. Then sho bowls me over by revealing that she used to do phone sex work while she lived in London. Here I thought that Hania, a Syrian, might be free-spirited but was another oppressed middle eastern woman. My prejudices were obvious to me almost immediately.

The next week, she came over to our house for a potluck. When the rest of the guests left, she didn’t and the three of us talked late into the night.

I can break the nearly 24 hours we spent together into distinct moments, all of them characterized by arousal and many of them by a distinct longing.

***
She is on my couch and we are discussing sex (what else?) and it is 4am. I am falling asleep and I also desperately want to reach out and touch her. Her breasts are over-spilling her shirt and I think she knows this and doesn’t fix it on purpose. I can even see the top of one dark areola and I try not to stare too much.

***
After a conversation on rope bondage, she agrees to be tied up. The morning sunlight is streaming into the guest room and her hair is wet from the shower. I nervously apply the katana over her clothes. Her chest is still heaving in the shirt she was wearing the night before. Despite the intimacy I nervously apologize each time I brush against her but she looks at me angelically.

In a bold moment, I show her what the Japanese refer to as dishevelment and pull the top of her tank top down to reveal her pink bra.

***

I am in her kitchen and she thrusts a porcelain dish under my nose, “Smell!”

“Za’atar?”

“Yes, you know it? My mother sends it to me”

Three days later I find myself in my own kitchen, mixing a batch of the pungent spice blend. Sumac, paprika, cumin, and thyme. I inhale it deeply and remember her.

***

I am sitting on her couch and and she is reading my fortune from the grounds in my Turkish coffee. We are leaning our heads together and I can smell her and I want to cry because I want her so badly.

***

Last weekend we saw Hania again. She had spent a month out of town and was emailing me and calling me several times a week just to talk. I knew she wanted us but I was so nervous. For now, I’m treasuring that night and keeping it to myself. You, dear reader, can enjoy the same anticipation that I did. Hopefully by the time I write the rest of the story, she will have given me permission to publish the picture of her in my ropes.

Want to know what Jay was thinking through all of this? His version was posted this week.

Download Episode #19 of Bedroom Radio (15MB, 33minutes)

In this episode, I read a great piece of erotic fiction from Jack of Writing Dirty. Additionally, Jay and I demonstrate the Door Jam Cuffs from Vibe Review and test out the Snugglepuss vibrator.

Right now, enjoy 10% off any purchase at Vibe Review by shopping through this link!

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This is the back of the harness that Artemis put on me. She did beautiful weaving on the back so that I would be able to lay down on it and not have any knots digging in.

After getting the harness in place I was molested. Significantly. Implements used included a violet wand, an e-stim kit, a Hitachi, and wax that was melted using a blow torch.

After 3 hours had passed, she set me free. The rope marks were beautiful.

These Door Jam Cuffs don’t look like much out of the package but turned out to be surprisingly functional. They work quite simply without any fussy installation or need for hardware.

A serious bondage enthusiast would probably have more severe and effective restraints in their repertoire but if you are interested in getting started, these cuffs (or something like Under the Bed Restraints) are the perfect accessory. You won’t be able to tie up a fugitive with these but since your participant will be willing and ready (despite their playful protests) no need to worry about that, right?

The cuffs are made of a soft material and fasten with simple Velcro closures. While they aren’t meant to hold up your body weight, they will take on a fair amount of it if your knees get a bit weak. They can be used on either wrists or ankles – in fact, using two sets at once isn’t the worst idea!

One drawback of these that I noticed right away was that the way they hang over the door jam doesn’t actually do anything to stop the wearer from slipping their wrists toward each other. In addition to the fact that they are Velcro, this makes them exceedingly simple to get out of.

However, this criticism is only leveled in comparison to more serious bondage implements. These Door Jam Cuffs definitely fall in the very playful category and will function effectively, dare I even say joyously, for a variety of exploits you might think of. Mine are staying right in their place over the bedroom door for any impromptu play that I come up with.